


They Called Her Baby

by DustyImpala



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Gen, general sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 12:22:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9657326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustyImpala/pseuds/DustyImpala
Summary: The Impala has seen many things. But in the end, she is silent.





	

If she was a woman, she would have been old. Wrinkled, more than a few scars, and perhaps sporting some tattoos.

 

But she commanded respect.  
  
Wiry steel-colored hair swept back into a tight knot on the back of her head, and eyes that knew things others couldn’t imagine and seen things that they wouldn’t believe. He apparel would always seem formal, but not out of place on a woman with her personality.

 She would walk stiffly, but with purpose, never faltering.  
  
She would harbor many secrets, some beautiful and tender, and others that would make your heart ache. She helped pass out Bibles in the early 70’s, not knowing what a dark omen this was for the rest of her life.  
  
She helped a young couple move into a new house, and watched them argue and kiss, and grieve the loss of a father. She watched them start a family.  
  
She watched a house burn, with a mother trapped inside.  
  
She transported and sheltered two young boys, destined and doomed to a life of suffering, and a grieving father who didn’t know how to show his love. She was always there for them, even when there were accidents and it seemed like she wouldn’t make it, or they took out their anger on her. Heaven knows they didn’t have anywhere else they could release their pain.  
  
She saw monsters. Real ones, the kind that haunt your dreams and give you nightmares, and always have you looking over your shoulder.  
  
She witnessed romance and heartbreak. She heard words exchanged that were meant to hurt out of pure spite, and some that hurt out of a misguided sense of protection. She saw some tears shed, but more often she saw them held back, knowing that if they fell that they wouldn’t stop.  
  
She hid bodies and weapons, and all manner of illegal items and substances. She was very clever about that.  
  
She harbored demons. Ugly hateful things, but seductive and witty. The king of Hell himself was particularly charming, she would tell you.  
  
She also met angels. Unlike demons, they didn’t usually bother with the false niceties. But there were some that she liked, the ones who fell in love with humanity as she did.

 The one she first knew as the trickster who hid and only wanted peace, and a fallen guardian of Eden, tortured by his own shame. And another, who would eventually learn to love humanity and befriend her eldest, something that she knew he needed desperately.  
  
She watched them all die, every single one.  
  
Some, by the misguided hands of family. Some by monsters that were just too quick, too clever.  
  
Sometimes they came back. She was always happy when they came back, but also pained. How much more would her charges have to take?  
One day, they went out on a hunt and left her in a safe spot.  
  
They never came back.

She never knew what happened to her boys exactly, she just knew they were gone. And their angel companion never sought her out either. Perhaps he died too. Perhaps he merely forgot.  
  
She loved the family she harbored, but could never tell them. Oh, she would try, cradling them as they fell asleep, purring and soothing them, and never making too much of a fuss when it came to her own health, but she couldn’t tell them she loved them.  
  
She would regret that, terribly.  
  
If she was a woman, she would turn heads, intimidate and inspire the imagination. She would be the most important person in the universe. God himself would say so.  
  
But she wasn’t a woman. She was a car, with forged plates and tags, and an odometer reading that would seem impossibly high. She had legos in her air vents and an army man stuffed in the ash tray, and a surprisingly large cassette collection.  
  
She was hidden by the side of a dirt road, her hood covered in leaves and grime, blending into the surrounding trees. She was once loved, the eldest boy calling her “Baby” with pride.

  
But now she was abandoned, her secrets forever lost to time. 

**Author's Note:**

> This started off as me venting my frustrations to a friend that all of the "humanized" cars that I've ever run across were young sexy things, merely another plaything for their owners. I felt that the Impala would be an older woman, who while still quite commanding in her figure, certainly experienced a few hard knocks in her life. More of a motherly figure instead of a sex kitten.
> 
> It's an idea that wouldn't leave me alone and finally resulted in me cranking this out in about an hour late at night. I tried editing it but as I said, I simply had to get it down on paper and out of my head. Feedback is appreciated, as this is my first published work...well ever, actually.


End file.
